First Surrender (Chance Encounters #3)

Chapter Twelve

Jackson

M y whole body is on fire. I’m frustrated with her and how I’ve reacted. My mind is begging me to get away from her but I can’t seem to move.

“Fuck. You.” Her whole body is vibrating with anger but I’m too worked up to get satisfaction from it. I want to shove her out of my office just as badly as I want to grab her by the hips and pull her back into me. Like I’ve imagined doing every time she’s ever stomped away from me.

My attraction to her is the biggest burden of my life. I didn’t get a say in it. She popped into my life, into my head, consuming my thoughts entirely. A lot of them are of annoyance and stubbornness, but more than a few are about the curves this woman possesses.

Her ass. God, I can’t stop thinking about her ass.

I lower my hand from the door, finally backing up and away from her. What the hell am I doing?

I’m losing my mind.

“Go, Natalie. I am too tired to fight with you.” I slump onto the small sofa on the far side of my office and close my eyes for a second. She doesn’t bust out of the room like I suspected, instead, I watch from under heavy lids as she turns back toward me.

Maybe she’ll strut over here and kill me. Put me out of my misery with a stomp of her heel.

She takes a seat in the chair that her purse was sitting in, crossing her arms over her chest. The way her leg rests over her knee with her foot tapping in the air is not the stance of a woman who is going to leave quietly. I blow a breath out, slowly. Here we go.

“In the interest of keeping Dec safe. Are we safe in the hotel?”

“I don’t know, but-” She cuts me off.

“Surely he wouldn’t be crazy enough to light a hotel on fire,” she states, exasperated. She truly thinks I’m terrible at my job if she thinks I haven’t considered all possibilities.

“I’m not implying that Declan is taking up a passion for arson, Natalie.”

“Then, what are you suggesting?” She asks but I bite my tongue. I was hoping she’d come to this conclusion on her own and I wouldn’t have to pull the wool from her eyes. When I don’t respond, her eyes narrow.

“I need to call a ceasefire.”

“A what?”

“I need you to promise that you will remain neutral toward me for a limited period of time.”

“Why?”

“What I’m about to discuss with you is going to make you mad and I don’t want you to run away from me because you hate me. I know I am not your favorite person, but this is serious and I need you to listen to me for the entirety of it.”

“Why should I believe that you have my best intentions in mind?”

Always the cynic.

“Because it’s about Dec and I know he is your most important interest.” I watch the defeat in her eyes. She knows I’m telling the truth. Her shoulders slump and I take it as a sign that she’s giving in.

“Fine, cease fire.”

“Declan is determined to get released. His lawyer is pulling out all of the stops. He’s already tried to throw the prosecutor off the case, the judge.”

“He can’t get out, he-”

“I know. I don’t want him to get out either. I terminated the deal because he didn’t give me any information and now he’s pissed. He’s mad at me. He’s mad,” I explain as cooly as I can. I’m mad about all of it, too. This week has been hell dealing with it.

“You terminated it? So he isn’t going to be charged with Involuntary Manslaughter?” She asks hopefully. I wish it were good news.

“He will be charged with Aggravated Murder but he won’t be convicted… There’s not enough evidence. That’s why I pushed for the deal in the first place. The prosecution can’t win this, the judge probably won’t even take it to trial.” She looks green as I finish that sentence, but I ignore it, needing to get the rest out in the open while I have her safe in my office.

“In the meantime, he’s desperate to gain his freedom. I don’t know why he’s so desperate suddenly, but he is.” Her eyes study me closely and I feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. There’s no getting away from being burned.

“There’s more, Jackson, I can tell. What aren’t you saying?”

Like a coward, I’m putting off the final piece of information that will cut the deepest. I think this would be easier if she were still calling me Sheriff Small Dick.

“It’s a long shot, but the reason that I think Declan had someone set fire to your apartment is because, with Dec dead, he would’ve been let out for extenuating circumstances. Like the death of a child.”

There’s a long silence as the blood drains from her face, her skin going porcelain white.

“Oh my God.” She jumps up and as predicted, runs straight for the door. I launch up from my seat after her. She should not be leaving like this, not after that information.

“Nat, stop.” I jam the door again with my arm above her head and she whips around to face me.

“Let me go. I have to go,” she rambles.

“No, talk to me.”

“About what? Declan wants to kill my baby brother!” She yells, her voice cracking. “I thought he hated me,” she whispers. “I thought it was about hurting me.”

“I don’t know what he wants. I don’t want this to be true, but I can’t help but see the connection. I hope I’m wrong about this. I’ve never wanted to be more wrong.”

She looks at me, finally. Her dark brown irises stare into mine. To her credit, she hasn’t shed a single tear. Her eyeliner is as sharp as ever. “That’s why you have the deputy watching us? Not because it was arson, but because you’re nervous about what Declan might do.”

“It’s more than that. I don’t want anything to happen to either of you.”

“Is this a part of your God complex? You have to protect everyone?” She accuses, but the insult falls flat.

“I would like to protect everyone, yeah. Is that so bad?”

She rolls her eyes as a response and sets her jaw. There she is. “What do we do?”

“Move in with me. You’ll be safer and I won’t have to keep a deputy in front of your hotel. My house is safe.” I’ll keep you safe. I want to add but I don’t. I’ve pushed her enough.

“Wouldn’t it be safer to keep a deputy then? For Dec.”

“I’ll be there and won’t need to pay anyone.”

“Not enough tax funds?” She scoffs, but the sadness in her tone softens it.

“Uh, yeah.” I move away from her again because it’s suffocating to be too close and I need to keep my distance.

“You are still keeping something from me.” Her perception of me is too knowing.

“I am not,” I say without looking at her.

“You are.”

“Really? Do you want to play this game?”

“No, I don’t want you to keep secrets from me.” She huffs.

“You don’t need to know this one.” I shrug. “Leave it alone.”

“When have I ever listened to you? Why would I start now?”

Yep, I led myself into that one.

“Fine.” I rub my hands across my face and over my head. This is a nightmare and we are long past the meeting time with the prosecutor. “Taxpayers aren’t funding the deputy’s overtime. I am.”

“Right, well… You are the sheriff.”

“No. Not as Sheriff, as me.”

Her jaw drops. “What? Why?”

“The county can’t afford overtime. We can’t afford much of anything. I’m trying to fix it but I haven’t yet. It will take time. I need to hire more people as it is and we have no money to spare.”

“The hotel?”

I don’t respond. I don’t need to. She’s smart enough to piece together what I’m saying. I couldn’t stand the thought of her and Dec having nowhere to go.

“You bastard.” Ouch. Okay, I should have expected that. “Is this some sick way of getting me to owe you? To have something against me.”

“What? No. Not at all. Why can’t you believe that I am a decent human being?”

“Most people aren’t.”

“I’m sorry that you feel that way.”

“I am going to pay you back every penny for the hotel. I refuse to be in debt. Give me some time and I’ll pick up more shifts.”

“No,” I say too quickly. I don’t even want to imagine what she’s doing for money in that red lacy bra that haunts me and all of the tiny smoke-covered clothes that I shoved into a trash bag at her apartment. She narrows her eyes again. “Don’t worry about paying me back, you have enough on your plate.”

“Stop trying to rescue me! I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity!” I shout, immediately regretting it. “Look, I’m sorry. I never yell, ever, but I can’t seem to stop arguing with you.” I blow out an exasperated breath.

“I bring out the worst in people. Call it a curse or a gift, I don’t care. I appreciate you looking out for Dec but I do not want to move into your house. I don’t want to keep disrupting Dec’s life. I’ll figure it out.”

“Are we still in the ceasefire?” I ask, watching the decision play across her face.

“For the moment,” she says softly. I recognize the exhaustion slumping her shoulders.

“For what it’s worth. I think you’re doing a great job with him. He’s a good kid. All of his teachers had great things to say.”